Shelf Elves and Fatherhood

This is a typical conversation between my son, Jackson, and me… this one concerning Chip, our Elf on the Shelf. (If you're not familiar with an Elf on the Shelf, it's essentially a creepy-looking elf doll who sits on–you guessed it–a shelf in your house. He watches over your child and reports to Santa every night. When your child sleeps, the elf "moves" to another place in the house, so the kiddos have the fun of finding him every morning.) Anywho, apparently the elf frustrates my son a bit… or maybe it's me…

Me:  Where's Chip?

Jackson:  He's out there.

Me:   Are you sure?

Jackson:  He's gone!

Me: You haven't even looked. How can you be sure he's gone?

Jackson: Idiot! Idiot! Dammit!

Now, I know I'm not supposed to laugh, but it's hard to keep from chuckling at his attitude. Yes, he heard those words from me, so I only have myself to blame. He's two, and I think he'll be giving his teachers Hell in a couple of years.